Omoni's Torigore 30
by Omoni
Summary: A collection of ficlets, drabbles, and regular fics all about Asgore and Toriel's complex relationship, both before, during, and after the Pacifist run of the game. There will be spoilers, ridiculous fluff, sappy romance, and some angst. So, yeah. Enjoy!
1. Lively

"Uh... aren't you Prince Asgore?"

Asgore started, then looked up, and saw probably one of the most beautiful monsters he'd ever seen in his life. She was of a similar type as he, but that's not what made her beautiful. Rather, it was the way she held herself, standing tall and almost proud, but without any arrogance in that stance. Her ears were long like his, her hair short and white, and her eyes were a beautiful light indigo. She was plump but carried it so well it almost made him blush. In that one moment, that one look, and that one question, Prince Asgore of the monster race was hers.

"Y-yes," he agreed, his hands fumbling with his textbook (Introduction to Fire Magic).

She smiled, and his heart raced. "You? Fire? Really? But you're so... kind, so gentle and easygoing!"

He found himself smiling back; her smile was almost contagious. "You'd be surprised."

"Oh?" She sat down beside him and held out her hand. "I'm Toriel, and I'd love to see proof."

He took it and shook it. Her grip was strong and firm. "I'm just Asgore, and it would be my pleasure," he replied with a grin.


	2. Remorseful

Asgore sat upon his throne, his head in his hands. The night sky made the throneroom dark, but nothing was darker than how he felt inside.

Beside him, like an open wound, was an empty throne. It would never be filled again.

Toriel had left him. While he had made his proclamation to exact revenge on the humans that had murdered his children, his wife had vanished. No note, no message left with any of the staff - nothing, save one thing: her crown, left on the seat of her throne.

She had truly left him. He had gone too far. By trying to give his people hope, he had destroyed his wife's.

So he sat in his throne, and wept.


	3. Dismiss

When Toriel returned to the Ruins, the first thing she did was dismiss her staff. She no longer needed them, and she knew they'd be happier back at New Home, in the Capitol, than in the dismal remains of _her_ new home. There were some protests, but she was firm, and eventually, she was alone.

Walking back towards Home was harder than she'd imagined. Not only was it full of painful memories, but she had to keep them to herself, as she soon discovered that the Ruins still had many people living there. They were harmless, shy folk, the type that were best left alone, and she was fine doing that.

Soon, she'd count herself among their number, after all.

When she finally made it to Home, she stopped in front of the house, frozen in her tracks. Without control, her eyes filled, and though she tried to stifle them, the tears came anyway - and violently. She lowered to her knees, covering her face, the gravity of what she'd done finally hitting her hard, and directly in the heart.

She couldn't just shrug the pain away. She couldn't just pretend it was meaningless and therefore easy to get over. There was no way to simply dismiss this pain.

Alone, in the overgrown garden of her old - now new - home, Toriel wept.


	4. Heavy

Once, Asgore found himself at the entrance of the Ruins. He knew Toriel was there, knew all he had to do was knock, to call out her name, and perhaps there'd be a reaction. At this point, he didn't care what kind he got, so long as it was one. He'd sent letters, so many letters, but he either got silence or ashes sent back in response.

So, now, here he was, standing like a fool in front of the doors of his former kingdom, hoping that, somehow, in some way, if he knocked, he'd get a reaction from her.

That was all he wanted.

For what felt like hours, he held his hand over the door, ready to knock, to yell, to plead, even, anything to get her attention...

But his heart was too terrified of the silence he might get, instead.

So, Asgore lowered his head and walked away, his heart as heavy as lead within his breast.


	5. Forward

When the school for monster children was finally going to be opened on the surface, it was Toriel, and not Asgore, who took the first step. What she didn't know was that she was taking the first step to their reconciliation.

Asgore was still living Underground at the time, intent on staying there for the monsters that remained there, until they, too, journeyed to the surface. Toriel journeyed all the way to New Home, discovering that he was in the throneroom garden, as usual. She could hear his humming from a distance away, and actually had to stop herself for a moment upon hearing it. It was so familiar that it actually hurt.

When she could, Toriel made it to the garden, pausing again, in the doorway. Her heart raced, and not for the first time, she felt as if she were playing the fool. Was she crazy to want to ask this of him? Was she stupid? She hadn't forgotten what he'd done, but she also knew just how remorseful he had become. Maybe even had been back then, too.

Slowly, Toriel walked into the garden, her steps light. But Asgore froze, his voice going silent. He didn't turn around, so she stopped several feet away, her hands folded in front of her. There was a silence, one that stretched between them.

Then, without turning around, he murmured, "Tori."

Her heart ached from hearing it. "Hello, Asgore," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, but even with her best efforts, it still wavered.

Asgore turned around then, still holding a watering can, and he looked at her. One of the things he had never mastered was his ability to mask his emotions, and so now, Toriel could see exactly how he felt: a mix of relief, sadness - and fear. She was surprised by the fear. What was he afraid of? Her? Her words?

For another moment, they stared at each other, so much left unsaid between them, so much that needed to be said but was not; Toriel couldn't find the proper way to begin a conversation like that.

Instead, she said, "Asgore, would you like to work at my school?"

He stared at her, shocked, before his face lit up, so much that it took her breath away. His happiness was so immense, so bright, that she truly did feel the fool for not asking sooner - though deep down she knew why she did not. She was also afraid, but for her own reasons.

"It would be as groundskeeper," she continued. "Hard, physical work. But, I figured, since you spend so much time in the gardens here anyway, you'd be right at home in the job."

He was nodding before she finished, smiling so brightly, he beamed. She froze; she hadn't seen that expression in many, many years, and its sudden appearance sent her heart racing again. She coughed, hoping to cover it up.

"The school opens on Tuesday," Toriel explained. "Can you be there on Monday, to begin the work, make it presentable in time?"

"Yes," he said right away. "Yes, of course I can"

"Good. I'll see you on Monday. Do wear casual clothing, Asgore."

She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her. "Thank you, Tori. This means a great deal to me."

Toriel didn't turn around, but replied, "Don't thank me yet, Asgore. It isn't going to be easy."

"With you there," he replied, "anything is bearable."

She blushed, lowering her head, but she said nothing. She simply walked away, knowing he would keep his word. She was too afraid to look at him, again, anyway.


	6. Prowl

Asgore adored his job. He loved everything about it. He loved it so much that he very rarely took breaks, finding himself not really wanting to - except maybe to eat. But even then he sometimes forgot.

Toriel wasn't exaggerating when she warned him that it would be hard work, but he never complained. He found it challenging, but in a good way; it helped him get back into shape - something he realised he had been sorely (literally) neglecting. That took some adjusting to, especially when it came to sore muscles, but soon, it became easier - and fun.

Many of the children recognised him, and delighted in both teasing him and cheering him on. He loved the attention, especially from them. For once, it made him feel like the actual king he was supposed to be - despite the demotion.

Toriel certainly noticed his devotion to his new job. It almost seemed that, when she noticed an issue, he was on it before she could even mentioned it. He was attentive, quick, and above all, cheerful. It was the cheer that surprised her, though intellectually she knew it shouldn't have. He took such great pleasure in everything he did that it reminded her of the husband she had once had, who had been the same way with housework.

What was sweet for Asgore was bittersweet for Toriel.

At times, it seemed almost as if he were always underfoot, or always where she wanted to be before she even got there, as if he were stalking her. He was not; it was truly coincidence, but whenever their eyes met, she always found herself smiling back, regardless of hos she felt at that moment.

Soon, however, it became almost a comfort to Toriel to find him where she was. She found herself looking forward to his smiles, to seeing him hard at work, or talking to the students and staff - anytime, really.

And it was then that Toriel wondered, with a blush: who was stalking whom? And why?


	7. Cut

Asgore was working hard at one of his hedge displays. It was one of his favourite jobs, finding true joy in his grassy creations. He'd managed to make one of everyone close to him, save one: the one he worked on, now. The one he'd save for last, because he wanted the most time on it. The entire time, he was grinning, unable to contain his excitement. He hoped the subject of the creation would - at least - tolerate it, though part of him wondered if he should expect a lecture.

It took him hours, but Asgore knew it would. He'd made sure nothing was left to be done before he began, so that he could spend as much time on it as possible. It was almost the end of the day when he finally lowered the shears and grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"She's gonna kill you."

Asgore turned to find Undyne behind him, grinning her widest. "Can I watch?" she added. He made a face at that, and she laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck, Dad," she concluded, before making her way back to the school. She was still grinning, but he'd caught a look of approval, there, too, which gave him some hope.

Before him was Toriel, dressed as she was as queen, complete in royal regalia and a sword. She stood tall and proud, her face a mix of calm serenity and stubborn strength. It was the wife he used to have, and could still sometimes see in her, today.

He was still examining it when a voice said, "I won't kill you, but I do wonder at your taste, Asgore."

He turned with a grin, and Toriel stood behind him, her eyes on her grassy clone, her arms crossed and her posture tall. She didn't know it, but she wore almost the exact expression as the hedge.

"Do you like it, Tori?" he wondered, still grinning. She didn't answer, still staring at it, as though spellbound.

Then she said, her voice soft, "Is that how you truly see me?"

Asgore's smile flickered. "Well, part of you, yes." He nodded, turning back to the hedge and gazing at it fondly. "The queen in you, the part that you now use as Headmistress. That strength, but also that gentleness, as if you'd heal the person you just smacked for a good reason." He grinned wider. "I remember that a lot."

Toriel was blushing; she remembered, too. It was true that she found herself reverting back to that part of herself during her teaching. "Yes, well," she said, before coughing a little, embarrassed - and touched. "It's a tad overbearing, is it not?"

"Nope," Asgore replied without hesitation. "I think it suits the school perfectly."

Toriel hesitated, then looked closely at him. He looked so happy that it touched her even deeper, so much that it almost hurt. She suddenly had the urge to grab his hand into hers and not let go. But of course she did not. Instead, she said sincerely, "I agree, Asgore. It's lovely."

He turned to her, and their eyes met, hundreds of words passing between them, left unsaid. Before she knew it, her hand was reaching out, as he was with his, and they touched, holding onto each other's hands tight. She stared at him, and he stared back. For that moment, both were lost in each other's gaze, their minds focused on how wonderful such a simple gesture could feel.

"Mami-Tori!"

Toriel's hand jerked away as though burnt, turning to Frisk at once and kneeling down, accepting their hug with a shaky smile and a soft greeting.

Asgore's hand dropped, as did his heart. He'd felt... so close to her, then.

Frisk's eyes suddenly met his over Toriel's shoulder, and they held a gentle, understanding light in them. Frisk understood, and Asgore knew that he had an ally in Frisk. He smiled, and they smiled back, winking.

As Toriel and Frisk walked hand-in-hand, Toriel looked back, her eyes falling first on the hedge, then on Asgore. He blinked back, and she looked away quickly. But he knew what he'd just found there, and his heart soared.

Hope.


	8. Compromise

Asgore wanted to spend more time with Frisk. The feeling was definitely mutual, Toriel soon discovered. Frisk was eager to get to know Asgore better, so once, over lunch at the school, she brought it up with him.

"Do you plan to move to the surface someday, Asgore?" she began, keeping her voice calm, though oddly her heart was not. Maybe she'd had too much coffee that morning?

Asgore blinked. "Well," he said, thinking about it. "At the moment, no, I haven't."

That surprised her. "Really? Why not, Asgore? It's lovely here."

He looked down, going quiet. His ears twitched, and suddenly she realised he was going to lie. She was right. "I just haven't thought about it."

It was indeed a lie. He thought about it all the time, but two reasons held him back. The first was guilt: he didn't feel as if he'd earned the right to live on the surface, due to his past actions. He'd not only declared war on humans, but he'd killed their children. It felt as if he would be doing something dishonest if he were to live amongst them.

The second reason, he knew, was foolish, but no less true: he didn't want to live alone anymore, and he knew who he wanted to live with: Toriel and Frisk. He knew that that was practically impossible, so instead, he tried his best to become friends with both.

Toriel knew it was a lie, but because she didn't know the truth, she let it go. "Well, you said once that you wanted to spend more time with Frisk-,"

He raised his head, lighting up immediately. He nodded, and she couldn't help it: she smiled. "Tori, it would mean the world to me," he admitted.

"And to Frisk as well, it seems," Toriel replied. "She keeps asking me, over and over, when you're going to come by and visit." She paused, taking a sip of coffee. "We live very close to the school, Asgore. You're welcome to come by any time for tea. Just let me know beforehand, so that I have what we need."

Asgore stared at her, speechless. It was far more than he'd ever expected, to be welcomed into their home, to actually have tea with them. In all of his lonely times thinking - yearning - for their company, he'd never imagined this much.

"Asgore, do stop looking at me as though I've just flashed you," Toriel snapped, rolling her eyes. He blushed, coughing, and she smirked, unable to help it. "It's just tea, Asgore. Besides, Frisk will finally stop pestering me. We both win."

Asgore smiled at her suddenly at that, and again her heart reacted. Maybe she had to lay off the coffee after all, she thought - in denial, as usual, and knowing it.

"May I... come by today?" he wondered carefully.

"No," she said at once. She went pink; she hadn't cleaned in a bit, and needed to do so, though again, the reason why such a thing was so important was dutifully ignored. "But tomorrow would be fine."

He reached forward and grabbed her hand, holding it tight. He couldn't help it; he felt so much all at once. "That would be just perfect, Tori," he admitted, almost feeling drunk in his joy.

Toriel stared at their hands for a moment, but didn't move hers away. "That's good," she said softly, though she wondered just then what she mean: the tea, or his hand? Then she snapped out of it and added, "Frisk will be very happy."

"She's not the only one," Asgore replied.

Softly, Toriel murmured, "No. She's not."


	9. Impulse

_So I had to up the rating of this collection solely because of this chapter, and the chapter after it. Whoops! Also, this chapter ended up really, really long, so I hope it makes up for the mini-chapters previous to it. Enjoy! (I hope :3)_

* * *

Looking back, neither knew who started it or why. But then, also looking back, it didn't really matter. It happened, it changed everything, and that was what was the most important thing.

Toriel, Asgore and Frisk had been enjoying their afternoon teas for about a week by then, and it had gone surprisingly well. Frisk already adored Asgore, and Asgore, himself, was charmed and smitten by Frisk pretty much the moment she'd spared him. They both learnt that they loved the same kind of pie, a penchant for cheesy jokes and puns, and gardens. They became friends so quickly, so easily, that Toriel regretted not doing this sooner.

By the Friday of that first week, when Asgore was about to leave for the evening, Frisk was so attached that she walked him to the door, holding his hand, then gave him a hug. Then, she said, "Safe trip Underground, Papi-Gorey."

Asgore's eyes filled, and he hugged her tight, shutting his eyes. "Thank you, Frisk," he murmured.

Before he left, his eyes met Toriel's, and he saw that hers, too, were bright with tears. Both were truly astonished by how casually Frisk had just called him that. Asgore walked back to the Underground in a light, thrilled daze. It was all he'd ever hoped for.

Well, almost.

The next day, on a whim, Asgore decided to surprise them both with a visit on the weekend. He brought fresh snails for Toriel and cinnamon-bunnies for Frisk, hoping to make his surprise visit a little festive. He forgot to call, first, though.

That alone was what changed everything.

"Asgore," Toriel said, blinking in surprise when she opened the door. "It's... Saturday."

He grinned. "Yes! I've come to surprise you and Frisk with some Underground treats!" He held up the tin of snails and box of buns and beamed.

Toriel stood there, unable to move. Her heart was racing, the expression on Asgore's face hitting her so suddenly it shocked her. Throughout the week, the feeling she'd first felt on that first afternoon had grown, but she'd furiously smothered it, refusing to name it despite knowing its name from the start. But seeing him now, completely unprepared, with his face so happy and open...

"Frisk isn't here," she admitted softly, hiding her hands behind her back: they shook. "She went to the beach with Undyne, Alphys, and Papyrus, and won't be back until the evening."

Asgore's face fell. "Oh. I should have called, first. I'm so sorry, Tori." He sighed. "Well, do take these, anyway, alright?" He forced a smile, but it was tiny compared to the previous one. He held the treats out to her, but Toriel didn't move to take them.

"You're leaving already?" she wondered. She sounded as dazed as she felt, but had no control over her voice. "But... you just got here."

Asgore looked confused, now, his hands still out and offering the food. "But if Frisk's not here, then, I should go, right?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she answered sharply, snapping a little out of her daze. She pulled the door open and moved to the side. "Come in for a little bit, Asgore. I don't mind."

Asgore stared at her, speechless, before he did so carefully, watching her closely, as if expecting some sort of trick. Toriel ushered him in and closed the door, and Asgore moved to the kitchen and set the food on the counter.

She went over to the tin and smiled at it. "Snails," she said, touching it lightly. "From the Underground?" She looked at him and smiled wider. "Thank you. I haven't had them in a while."

Asgore said nothing, immediately disarmed by her smile. She hadn't smiled at him in that way in a very, very long time. "Uh," he managed, scratching at the back of his head. "The buns are for Frisk."

Toriel nodded. "Thank you, again. I'm sure she'll love them." She turned back to him, folding her hands in front of her to mask their shaking. "This is very kind of you, Asgore. I do wish Frisk were here to enjoy them, now." She paused. "Would you like some tea, anyway?"

"Yes," he said at once. "That would be lovely. I'd love to, yes." He cleared his throat before he had a chance to go on, knowing that he would just end up babbling.

Toriel went on automatic, then, putting the treats aside for now and setting up the tea as she always did. Asgore sat down in his usual spot, watching her, entranced by how easy she made everything look. He'd never had a chance to watch her, before. Frisk would always talk and talk, either about school, the friends they shared, or her new position as ambassador. Now, he realised how much he'd missed watching her perform such a normal task.

Toriel was surprised she could do it at all, let alone competently. She was afraid that she would stumble or drop something, but luckily she was fine - at least, in regards to making tea. Her heart was racing, and she felt the blood rush to her face. She hoped Asgore couldn't hear her heart, hoped he didn't notice her blush, and wished she didn't feel so ridiculous.

With Frisk there, she was fine with Asgore. Frisk was an excellent buffer, a kind of distraction that kept both of them from having to focus on each other. Now that Frisk was absent, she felt painfully aware of him - as he was of her.

The tea was ready, and Toriel served it with leftover snail pie, which surprised - and delighted - Asgore. He smiled again, that real smile, and she almost choked on her tea. She tried, so hard, to get a grip on herself, but the longer time went on, the looser her hold became.

She didn't know it - yet - but Asgore was feeling the same way. His own heart was taxing him, so excited that he was able to spend time alone with Toriel, and now he was finally about to taste her snail pie, something he hadn't had in a long, long time. He took a generous spoonful, but before he could, she said, "They're surface snails, so they're not as good, but, well, they're not so bad..."

He smiled wider. "I'm sure it's delicious as always, Tori," he replied. She sipped her tea in response to hide her blush, and he took the bite of pie.

It sealed their fate.

He made a sound and closed his eyes, chewing slowly. She stared at him, and he sighed, his cheeks going pink in delight. She went red from that sound, still trying to hide behind her cup, and when he swallowed, he smiled blissfully, keeping his eyes shut.

"Ah, Tori," he murmured. "How I missed that so dearly."

She lowered her cup, surprised. "Even with those snails?"

"Yes," he nodded slowly. With his eyes still closed, he took another generous mouthful, chewing it in the same, slow, blissful way, his face getting more and more pink. "Oh, golly," he murmured. "So nostalgic."

Toriel stared at him, her cheeks burning. She, too, felt nostalgic, but in a different way. Wordlessly, she reached forward and, before she could talk herself out of it, placed her hand over his free one.

Asgore's eyes snapped open, meeting hers, and his hand turned over and curled around hers, lacing their fingers together. Their eyes were locked, now, and both noticed that their hands were warm, almost as warm as their faces.

Again, without thinking, Toriel reached forward with her other hand and touched his face, pressing her palm over his whiskered cheek gently. Asgore closed his eyes and leaned into her hand.

"Tori," he murmured, his voice so soft it almost hurt her. He dropped his spoon and covered her hand with his, nuzzling it with his cheek. "I... I need to tell you..."

"No," she said softly. "You don't."

He opened his eyes again, and she was staring at him, the expression so familiar that his blood went hot. He knew that look, knew it so well, despite not having seen it in such a long time. He could barely believe his eyes, and wondered if he was just seeing what he wanted. Because he wanted to, very, very much.

But Toriel's own blood was hot, and the expression was exactly what he saw. She couldn't explain why, or how, but she suddenly felt as if all of her walls were gone, as if they had never existed, and she wondered why she'd even had them to begin with.

"Gorey," she whispered, the name coming so naturally to her lips that it felt almost cathartic. Asgore's eyes shone, and he held her hands tight. Then, as though they'd both agreed on it, they stood up and reached for each other, both stumbling. They embraced, hard, and suddenly they were kissing, deeply, hands clutching tight and bodies close. Asgore's tears fell free, and Toriel felt her own eyes burn. It was a kiss that was both familiar and new, and they clung to each other, unwilling to let go.

"Gorey," she whispered against his lips, and he made a sound in response, reaching up and holding her face between his hands. She repeated it, only the tone was different - desperate. Asgore kissed her deeper, and her fingers dug into his back, gripping onto his shirt tight.

"Gorey," she repeated breathlessly, the word spilling from her lips against his. She'd lost control, now, lost in his embrace, the feel and taste of him, so missed, so longed for - and now finally, against her. She moved closer, no space between them, now, and he gasped, now the one reaching to her back to cling onto her.

"Tori... Tori, I... I..." he said between kisses, the feel of her almost intoxicating. When she moved up against him in that way, his mind filled with nothing but her, and he just blurted it out. "Tori, I love you... I love you, so much... I never stopped, and I never will..." And he leaned down and nuzzled her neck, right along the curve.

Toriel shut her eyes and tilted her head back, one leg hooking around his hip, feeling his desire against her - and wanting to feel so much more. "Gorey," she whispered. "Gorey, my love..."

He shut his eyes, more tears falling free, a small, relieved sound escaping him at that. She didn't need to say anything beyond that. He took hold of her leg at the back of her knee, keeping her close, his other hand now behind her head, still kissing along her neck, in just the way he remembered she loved.

"Gorey... I..." She bit her lip, feeling almost too hot for her own skin, her hands holding him so hard they shook. Then, surprising them both, she gasped out, _"Please, Gorey..."_

Asgore raised his head and kissed her again, deeply, and she hooked her other leg around him; he grabbed it at once and kept it close again. She moaned softly, the sound so sweet to him that he licked her lips, and her eyes shut tight. She tugged at his shirt, whispering his name again.

It was then, right there, that they both lost control - if they'd even had it to begin with. Asgore held her tight, and suddenly she found herself on the table, pinned beneath him. She moved the dishes aside, barely noticing or caring if they broke. Instead, she finally pulled his shirt off, her hands going over his chest slowly, the feel so familiar and also new yet again. Asgore stumbled, then reached for her shirt, and she pulled it, and her bra, off without any hesitation. They kissed again, Asgore reaching up and cupping one breast gently. Toriel whispered his name at that, and he broke from the kiss to nuzzle her other breast instead. She leaned back against the table, her hand going to his hair and tangling into it.

Everything was so easy, so familiar, yet they both knew that this was still something new, something reborn, and both were eager to see it grow.

Asgore kissed down lower along her chest and belly, then reached down beneath her skirt. Her hand in his hair tightened, and he took that - correctly - as encouragement. When his fingers touched hot and slick flesh, Toriel breathed out, her other hand grabbing onto his forearm hard. He looked up and saw that her eyes were closed, a small smile on her lips, and he couldn't help it. He pulled his hand away and removed her skirt and underwear, and she briefly looked at him at met his gaze, nodding and reaching for his pants. Soon he was as naked as she, and she wrapped her legs around his waist again, pulling him close. He stumbled, the tip of him brushing against her, and they both made a sound, then, a shared, desperate sound.

Toriel pulled him on top of her, right there on the table, and he leaned down and very slowly pushed himself into her. She grabbed his shoulders and arched back, and he buried his face into her shoulder, unable to keep himself from gasping out her name, before pushing his full length deep at her urging, her legs tight around him.

"Gorey..." she breathed out. He raised his head, and she kissed him, shifting her hips up and taking him into her even deeper. He gripped onto the edges of the table for balance and began to move, and there was nothing else, now, nothing but the two of them on that table. They kissed harder, moved faster, falling into familiar rhythms so easily it was as if there had been no time lost. He knew exactly how to move, exactly what she needed, and she knew the same for him.

It had been so long for both of them, neither having had any partners between, that Toriel was already close after only a few moments. Asgore knew it and held her close, breaking the kiss to lick one already-hardened nipple, and she cried out his name breathlessly, her whole body flashing hot, muscles gripping around him tight. She came, the feeling so wonderful, so familiar, that she laughed, just a little, in her delight, burying her face into his shoulder.

Asgore raised his head again to kiss her, and she complied, urging him to move faster. "Come for me, Gorey," she whispered against his lips, and he shut his eyes, the words lancing deep. He moved faster and harder, and she held onto him, meeting each thrust he made, and he held onto her instead of the table, now, so close, already so close... She whispered his name again, and he lost it, unable to hold it back any longer. With a choked groan, he came, holding her to him tight, shuddering from the intensity of it.

For a long moment, they lay together, clinging tight, unwilling to let go and wanting it to last as long as possible. They were both gasping for breath, Toriel's arms around Asgore's neck, one hand stroking his ear gently. Asgore's arms were around her waist, loosely, now, his face buried in the crook of her neck. She rested her cheek against his head, her eyes closed and her legs loose around his waist. Both felt so calm at that moment, as if doing this was the most natural thing in the world.

Then, slowly, Asgore raised his head and kissed Toriel deeply. She held his face between her hands and returned it, still smiling.

"Tori," he murmured, pulling from the kiss. She nodded, and he searched her eyes, his face sombre. "Are... are you... are we...?"

She laughed softly. "You silly whelp," she replied. "You truly need to ask?"

He reddened, then also laughed, though it was strained with a slight tremor. His eyes suddenly filled, and he blurted out, "Tori, please, please be my wife again, please..."

Toriel stared at him, her smile widening. "Gorey," she whispered. "I... was going to ask if I could..." She laughed again, kissing him, and he also laughed, the sound mixed with happy tears, unable to contain it.

She kissed his tears away, then said, blushing a little, "Gorey... my back... can we...?"

He got up and gently pulled her up with him, both shaky on their feet. They embraced, holding each other for a moment, a gesture so simple that held so much within it.

Then Toriel whispered, "Move in with us, and be Frisk's papi - and my husband."

Asgore buried his face into her shoulder and nodded, holding her closer. She pulled away, only to take his hand and lead him to her bedroom. He followed. He would follow her anywhere.

Forever.


	10. Hush

It was late in the night, and Asgore couldn't sleep. It was his first night in his new home with Frisk and Toriel, and he was lying awake, feeling so happy and lucky that he couldn't even imagine sleeping.

Part of him was absurdly worried that if he did sleep, he'd somehow wake up and discover that this was all a dream, and that he was actually still Underground, sleeping alone, walking alone, gardening alone - always alone.

But each time he thought of that, he looked over to his side and found Toriel there, curled up on her side and sleeping deeply. He wondered how she could sleep so easily. He wished he knew how. He turned around and slipped his arms around her waist, pressing up behind her carefully, hoping not to wake her. Just doing that was also dreamlike, and he rested his face behind her head, taking in her scent deeply and sighing from how comforting it - and she - was.

To his surprise, he heard a sigh from her in response, and she whispered, "Go to sleep, Asgore."

He went red, embarrassed that he'd been caught not only awake, but cuddling her in such a silly way. "I... sorry," he stammered.

Toriel woke up a bit more, unable to help it. Feeling him against her back, being held by him in such a tender way, was actually wonderful to her. She'd fallen asleep so easily at his side, not having done so in ages, and she knew that the difference was him. She also knew that his sleeplessness was also like him. He'd been like that the first few months of their first marriage, after all.

Old patterns, new again. Old love, reborn and stronger.

Toriel remembered, then, just how to make him sleepy. With a sly grin, she turned over and faced him, and he blinked at her, surprised by her expression. She reached up and touched his cheek gently, and his eyes softened - and so did her own. She slipped close and pressed against him, sliding her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. His eyes flared, but he automatically held her close. She kissed him, gently, and he murmured softly against her lips, desire hitting them both.

In mere moments, they were naked together, and shortly after that, Toriel had climbed atop him and had taken him into her, pressing against him and holding him close. She moved in such a way that drew it out, made it last, but both were quiet, gasps of pleasure mere puffs of air, cries of delight muffled by deep kisses and gentle caresses. They knew they had to be quiet, lest they wake up Frisk, but there was almost something sweeter about the quiet, more intimate, as though so much more could be exchanged and conveyed only through gestures in silence.

When Toriel hit her peak, she bit down on her lip and had to hide her face in Asgore's neck, clinging to him tight. He held her, shutting his eyes and loving every moment of it, adoring that she always seemed to smile whenever she came, and marveling that it was he who could bring her such pleasure. When she calmed, he kissed her, then rolled her gently onto her back. She hooked her legs around him and arched her back, closing her eyes and sighing deeply, still smiling. He leaned down and held her close as he moved, finding that keeping quiet could indeed be a challenge, but one he met easily. It was easy - everything was - with Toriel.

When he was close, she knew it, and pulled him closer, holding onto him tighter - everywhere. He swallowed a groan and shut his eyes tight, and he kissed her, the sound small against her lips, but enough to bring a soft sound from her in reply. She whispered, so gently, "Please, Gorey," and her words, like always, struck him deep. He was unable to hold back, and held her tight as he came, shaking, barely able to restrain himself from crying out her name.

She held him as they both calmed, already feeling sleepy again. Now, finally, he felt that way, too, and nuzzled his face into her neck, bringing a small laugh from her. They stayed that way for so long that when Toriel's eyes closed and her hold on him relaxed, he barely realised it. He had the thought to grab a blanket and pull it over them lazily, before sleep claimed him, too. Throughout the night, though they moved a bit in slumber, they still remained close, so that when they awoke in the morning, it was to each other.

The first morning of their fresh start.


	11. Morals

It took longer than he expected, but Toriel finally admitted that she wanted to discuss Asgore's past actions with him. It was after Frisk had gone to bed, and they sat together sipping chamomile tea, when Toriel brought it up carefully.

"Asgore, we should probably talk about what happened, before."

Asgore lowered his mug and nodded, his gaze lowering along with it. "Yes. I think that is wise."

Toriel sipped her tea, hoping it would calm her nerves. She hated this topic almost as much as he did, but despite their reunion - and the joy it brought - they'd both avoided discussing the reason for their initial separation to begin with. If they kept avoiding it, they knew it would only get more and more difficult to discuss.

"I killed six children," he murmured bluntly, surprising her. She looked up at him and saw that he was staring into his mug, his eyes shining with tears, remorse clear on his face. "In cold blood. And with no mercy." His voice was low, but it wavered, and Toriel bit her lip.

"Yes," she agreed softly, reaching forward to take his hand. He almost jerked it away, as if he didn't want her comfort - but he did want it, and thus didn't move. He needed that comfort.

"I want to say I meant well, that I wanted to save our people, but..."

"You did, Asgore," Toriel answered sharply. "But you did it wrong."

He nodded slowly. He knew. "When you left, I... didn't know what to do for a very, very long time."

"It was the same for me," she admitted gently.

"But it was my penance," Asgore went on. "Losing you. Losing my integrity. Losing most of my hope... Even when those children made it to face me, there was part of me that hoped they would just kill me to end all of our suffering."

"Asgore..." Toriel murmured, noticing that his tears fell freely, now. She squeezed his hand, but he shook his head.

"When Frisk came to spare me, I just wanted her to kill me. I was ready to die, Tori. I was going to let her."

Toriel lowered her head this time, her own tears welling up. If she hadn't stepped in and stopped the fight, she knew that he would have done just that. Even back then, as angry as she was, she couldn't let that happen. For both him and Frisk.

Then Asgore asked a question she never expected. "Why didn't you kill me, Tori?"

Her head jerked up in shock, her eyes wide. Her grip on his hand tightened further. "Gorey! How can you say such a thing?!"

He looked at her with such deep sadness that she bit her lip again. "I deserved it," he said.

"You deserved a great smack upside the head," she corrected at once, meaning it. She could tell, even back then, that he was sorry, and had been for a while. "And a lecture," she added. "And maybe another smack."

Asgore smiled weakly, sniffling a little. She rubbed his hand slowly. "Tori, I want this to work this time, and I want us to be honest and open." He looked right into her eyes, and she froze. "Do you still hate me? If so, I understand, but I need to know."

"I did," she admitted truthfully. "But I haven't for longer than I remember doing so. Especially now, Gorey. Especially with Frisk."

He smiled again, brighter, unable to help it. He always did when it came to Frisk. Seeing it, Toriel smiled in return. Despite how they'd met, Frisk and Asgore were almost inseparable. Frisk adored Asgore, just as he adored her. In her, not only was he a father again, but she was also his redemption, his chance to make amends for his crimes. Crimes that Frisk had never, ever held against him - always a surprise to him, that.

"Toriel," he murmured. He used her full name so rarely, so when he did, she knew it was serious. "I'm so, so sorry. I plan to spend the rest of my life making up for what I've done." He lowered his head, shaking with tears, now.

Toriel got up and went to his side, pulling him to her gently and stroking his hair and ears slowly. He clung to her, unable to stop sobbing, now, and she, too, cried, for not only his pain, but hers, too.

And especially for the lives that had been lost forever.


	12. Engage

Toriel knew why she did it, but it never stopped her, despite how terrible she felt later on. Asgore also knew why, which was why he took it so well - and why he waited for her to admit to it.

"Asgore," she snapped out, slapping her hand down on the table in front of him. He jumped in surprise, still waking up and still only on his first cup of tea. He blinked and looked up at her.

"I need you to be at the school at seven, today. It's almost seven. You need to hurry up!"

He glanced at the clock. It was 06:35. "I've plenty of time," he said calmly. "I'm going as soon as I'm done my tea."

Toriel grabbed his mug and poured it into the sink.

Asgore blinked slowly, staring at his empty hands. "Okay. I guess I'm done." He rose up and gave Toriel's red cheek a kiss, then left, whistling as he walked to the school. Toriel glared after him, the empty mug still in her hand, before she lowered it into the sink, her head lowering as well as she felt her anger fade, almost as quickly as it came. He'd actually been right: even at a regular pace, the walk to the school took fifteen minutes at the most. He would have made it on time.

Once at the school, she was immediately critical of his work. "Must you humour Papyrus so much?" she demanded, pointing to the fourth hedge bearing the skeleton's grinning face.

Asgore shrugged. "Sure. It makes him happy."

"It's ridiculous, Asgore," she corrected. "It makes us look ridiculous. We're supposed to be a respected school!"

"If hedges shaped like a teacher prevents that," replied Asgore calmly, "then the opinions of those who feel that way are worthless, don't you think?"

"Asgore-,"

"I promise, this is the last one," he interrupted. "He asked for four, for each corner of the school."

"But, Asgore-,"

Asgore smiled at her. "Besides, he has such a cheerful grin! Isn't it worth seeing from all directions?"

She stared at him, unable to refute that, and he kissed her cheek again and went back to work. In response, she turned and walked away.

Asgore sighed, watching her go. He wondered if she were ready yet, but judgeing from her actions, she was not. This was made even more clear at lunchtime.

"You forgot your lunch," she said flatly in greeting, dropping it in front of him. He blinked, then smiled up at her gratefully. She sat down beside him and added, "When will you ever remember, Asgore?"

"Well," he admitted. "I was in a hurry this morning."

She blushed angrily, shooting back, "Only because you so easily forget proper timing!"

"Right," he replied, distracted now by his food. "Of course."

Still red, Toriel let it drop, starting into her own lunch. They ate together in silence, but when he finished first, Asgore kissed her again and went back to work with another "thanks." Toriel said nothing, her face burning, unable to speak. It was probably better that way.

No matter what, he wouldn't rise to her anger. It baffled her. She was sure her comments would get anyone angry, or at least annoyed, but Asgore seemed to merely shrug them off.

Finally, that night, once Frisk was in bed, Toriel finally exploded, though quietly. "Why don't you care about anything I say to you?!"

Asgore stared at her. He was sitting on their bed, and she was standing over him with her arms crossed, her eyes blazing. "I do care," he said honestly, and calmly.

"You don't! You don't even react! No matter what I say, you just smile and kiss me and go on your merry way! Don't you care about what I'm saying to you?!" She paused. "Or even how I'm saying it to you?!"

"Do you even know why you're saying what you're saying, Tori?"

She hesitated. She did, but she didn't want to say it. She knew it was foolish. So she said, "What do you mean?"

Asgore sighed. "Do you even know why you keep trying to pick fights with me?" he elaborated, his face gentle.

Toriel blushed. "I'm not," she lied. "I'm just pointing out what you need to improve on!" She hated that he knew. She hated that she was so transparent. And she hated that she was doing it in the first place.

Asgore stood up and placed a hand on her cheek lightly. She began to pull away, but he stopped her with his other hand on her other cheek, and she froze, her face burning and her eyes bright.

"I'm not going anywhere, Tori," he said gently, and she hurriedly looked away, biting down on her lip, hard. "Stop trying to drive me away. If you don't want me here, just tell me, and I'll go, but I'm not going to be driven away like that."

Toriel refused to look at him, now. "I'm not easy to love," she answered sharply. "You need to remember that, in case you want to leave."

"Do you want me to leave?"

Her eyes shot back to his, and they softened. "No, of course not," she said, her voice still sharp. "I just... if you're going to leave, do it early, so my heart won't break so hard again."

There it was. She'd not only admitted it to him, but finally accepted it for herself.

Asgore pulled her close, and she seemed to unfold immediately, hugging onto him tight. "I'm not going anywhere," he said gently. "Are you?"

"Not this time," she said. "You're stuck with me, Dreemurr." Her voice wavered a bit, and he smiled faintly.

"Then do stop trying to chase me away, please," he replied, kissing her forehead, and she buried her face into his shoulder, her fingers digging into his back. "I'm more worried about chasing you away!"

She flinched, but didn't pull away. He regretted his words, but they were true, nonetheless. "Understandable," she admitted. "But again, not this time. I'm quite invested in you this time, Gorey." She smiled against his shoulder. "I'm eager to watch what you'll become."

Asgore bit his lip this time, trying not to cry. He leaned down, and she raised her head to meet him, and they kissed.

And Toriel's heart was finally calm.


	13. Voice

Toriel often sang when she was busy and certain no one could hear her. It wasn't that she thought herself a poor singer; rather, it was more that she had no idea if her voice was good or not, so she kept it to herself.

Well, in theory. When she lived alone, she often sang without worry, to stave off loneliness as well as to keep her mind busy. So many years alone had made the habit unconscious, and once she was on the surface with Frisk - and later Asgore - she would hum softly under her breath without much thought to it.

Frisk never said a word, instead opting for silence in order to enjoy it. Therefore, Toriel often never realised when she did it or how often. Asgore, completely unprepared for this, was stunned when he first heard her humming loudly in the kitchen.

Frisk shot him a stern look. "Don't say anything!" Her voice was a sharp whisper.

Asgore blinked. "Why not?" he whispered back.

"If she finds out, she'll stop," Frisk replied, and Asgore realised she was right. "You like it too, right?" When he nodded, Frisk added, "Then don't say anything!"

He tried. He truly did try. But every time he heard it, he felt his heart ache with both bittersweet memory and sweeter reality. Often, he'd just stand in place when he heard her, listening as though spellbound. It had been so long since he'd heard her singing, and he wanted to continue, yes. But there was also another part of him that wanted to tell her, in order to share it with her, too.

One weekend afternoon, when Toriel was preparing a pie, she began to sing - actually sing, and not just hum - and Asgore couldn't help it. He went to the kitchen and listened as well as watched her. She moved about the kitchen with her eyes shining as she sang, smiling the entire time. That was one thing he remembered: that despite their wealth, she preferred to do the cooking herself, and always found joy in doing so.

Asgore leaned against the doorway, watching her with a grin he didn't even know he wore. So much had changed, but some things definitely didn't.

Toriel turned towards him just as he was about to tiptoe away, and she jumped in surprise upon seeing him, almost dropping the pie crust she held. She went bright red, and she froze in place, staring at him. He smiled, and she blinked in reply.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked slowly.

Asgore shrugged. "Not long enough, in my opinion," he replied easily.

"Gorey," she said. "Uh..." She cleared her throat. "I was just... It wasn't really..." She put the pie crust down and picked up a rolling pin, holding it up to him. "Tell anyone and you're going to regret it," she concluded.

He burst into laughter at that, unable to help it. She misunderstood and was right in front of him in moments, holding the rolling pin up to his neck and glaring. He put a hand on it and lowered it, leaning down to kiss her. She returned it, but briefly, before she pulled away and glowered at him. In reply, he hugged her.

She tapped his back lightly with the rolling pin, and he laughed again. "I won't tell anyone," he promised finally, between laughs. "But I think you should join in on karaoke night."

There was another tap, though she was blushing deeper at the idea, both horrified and intrigued by it. "Oh, certainly not," she snorted.

"Well, if not, at least keep singing here at home," Asgore replied, nuzzling the top of her head gently. "Frisk and I love it."

A third tap came from that, though she was now smiling. "Really? It sounds okay enough to put up with at home?"

"Yes," he agreed. "More than just okay, though: wonderful."

Toriel muttered something about his cheesiness to corniness ratio in response, which only got him laughing again.

But she kept singing, only now she didn't hesitate when she knew someone could hear her. And soon, she did join karaoke night - rivalling even Mettaton with how often she sang.


End file.
